


Knife in Hand

by evilwriter37



Series: Discord Whump Prompts [11]
Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Blood, Gen, Heather!whump, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:14:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22260913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilwriter37/pseuds/evilwriter37
Summary: Viggo impales Heather's hand while speaking with her.
Series: Discord Whump Prompts [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1504100
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	Knife in Hand

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: impaled

Heather backed away as Viggo advanced on her, a knife in his left hand.

“I wish you’d been more fun to play with,” he said. “I thought you’d be a worthy opponent.”

“This isn’t a  _ game _ , Viggo.” Heather backed up against the wall. Ryker and his men had thrown her into a cell, and there had been nothing she could do. Windshear was in a cell too, probably, wherever they’d taken her. Thor, she hoped she wasn’t dead. 

“It is to me.”

“What do you want with me?” Heather asked. “You revealed you knew I was the traitor. You’ve captured me. You’ve won.” She wasn’t going to lie to herself: she was terrified of Viggo. She’d spent time alone with him, knew the things he wanted, knew the things he did to people. He was a horrible man, and now here she was alone in a cell with him, and he was brandishing a knife at her.

“Oh, I just thought we could play some more. These ships do move fast, but you know, I can’t sleep at night and it leaves me bored.”

“Go drink tea or something,” Heather spat at him.

Viggo was right up against her now, and he moved some hair out of her face with the tip of the knife. Heather’s breath hitched in terror. What was he going to do to her?

Very suddenly, Viggo was grabbing at her wrist with his free hand, pinning it by her head. The knife moved and then… agony. Heather screamed, long and loud. He’d embedded the knife into her palm, all the way through her hand, and into the wall. Heather didn’t know what to do with herself, how to respond. She tried to kick Viggo, but he grabbed her leg and shoved it back down. The kick had been weak anyway. Then she was reaching for the knife, about to pull it out, but Viggo grabbed her wrist. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said. “This knife is the only thing stopping your hand from bleeding everywhere. Wouldn’t want to get sick from blood loss, now would we?” He flashed his teeth at her in a smile.

Heather screamed at him in both pain and frustration, tried kicking him again, but he danced out of her reach.

“Why are you doing this to me?!” Her voice was rough with anguish. 

Viggo simply shrugged. “Like I said, I can’t sleep.” He pulled over the one chair that had been in the cell, sat down in front of Heather. “Now, let’s chat.”

“Chat?” Heather felt on edge from the pain. It was going from her hand all the way down her elbow. And gods, she’d never felt anything like it before. It hurt so damn much! She wanted to kneel, to fall, but she couldn’t. The ship rocked and she felt dizzy. She looked at her hand again, at the knife impaling it.

“What would you all - you, Hiccup and the Riders - have done with me if you really did manage to capture me?” Viggo asked.

“I… I don’t know.” Heather’s head drooped. She wanted the knife  _ out  _ of her hand, wanted Viggo to leave. She just wanted to curl into a ball and cry.

“No? I’m just merely amused by the thought of you all capturing me. I’m sure torture wouldn’t have been it. Hiccup doesn’t seem like one to be able to carry it out. Astrid, though, maybe. But then what would you have done with me after you’d gotten the answers you wanted? When you were done with your game? Killed me?”

“Will you shut  _ up? _ ” Heather growled. She grabbed for the knife in her hand, willing to pull it out. Maybe it would stop some of the pain. Besides, he’d basically given her a weapon.

Roaring, Heather yanked out the knife. She stumbled, nearly fainted from the pain, but then she was lunging towards Viggo, knife in hand. He stood in a flash, grabbed her, twisted her wrist. The knife fell from her hand, and then he shoved her to the floor. She gave a cry, curled up around her hand.

“I told you not to do that.” Viggo bent and picked up the bloodied knife. He sighed, staring at the way her hand was gushing blood. Heather was clutching it desperately, as if her hold would make the bleeding stop. She was letting herself cry now, tears streaming down her face, sobs bubbling up. “Well, I suppose I’ll see you later. Sleep well.”

Viggo left the cell, and Heather was alone with her anguish.


End file.
